tHe cHOiR

ThE motheRs stand huDDled,
enTwined in A kisS
COmposeD of nEw sonGs
tHey LaMent tiMes gRey misT
ThE melodY a sireN, a
HOMEcomiNg cALL
HeaRd dEEp withiN realmS
wHere All lOST footstePs fAll
AnD sOMeTimes, iN soRRow,
ThE cHildreN sinG bacK
tHe choiR cOmpleTe aS
mooNs Light stArtleS blaCk,
tHougH...

nO anGel can heaR thEm fOr
thE angelS aLL sleeP, weaRy
froM woRk sTEALing sOuls,
theiRs... tO kEEp...
SO, thE moTHerS faLL
HuddleD aNd thE chilDren
stanD loSt, thE liFe deaTH
diSordeR
PRESerVed aT...gOds... coSt...

M P 13/5/21